


Minor

by staarmunch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Louis takes care of him, M/M, One Shot, harry is my tiny frog son, it's cute, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2960003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staarmunch/pseuds/staarmunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wakes Louis up at four in the morning to take him to the hospital because of an injury. He fails to mention that it's just a paper cut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minor

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i was talking to my friend who i wrote this for and i believe it was her who came up with this "prompt" of sorts and then i wrote it. it's quick and short but i thought it was cute so i decided to post it. 
> 
> i apologize for any incorrect terms. i am american and therefore struggle with knowing all the british terms so i did the best i could but if i messed up feel free to let me know!
> 
> enjoy~

It's late. Late enough that the sleep timer on the television has turned the screen black and the moon is on its way out for the night. Louis is tangled in off white sheets, his legs wrapped up while his arms are shoved under a pile of pillows, lying flat on his stomach. Harry is next to him, in the beginning stages of waking from a fitful slumber. He's void of all blankets, the duvet somehow on the floor. He's got one pillow compared to Louis' three and he's lying on his back, arms folded and resting on his stomach.

The younger man's eyes blink open and he sits up, stretching his arms over his head before climbing out of bed. He doesn't take too much care in being quiet because Louis sleeps like the dead.

Harry stumbles into the kitchen, flicking on lights as he goes. His sock clad feet glide across the hardwood floors until he reaches his destination.

It's not unusual for Harry to wake up hungry; he’s a midnight-snack kind of person. He opens the walk-in pantry and opts for a bag of tortilla chips. Deciding against using a bowl, Harry brings the chips over the couch and sits down, bag in hand.

This is where it gets tricky.

Harry's always struggled with these bags. They don't pull open like a regular bag of chips. Instead, they are made of thick, brown paper that has vague instructions printed across the top. Harry struggles with the bag, trying several techniques. It's just before he almost gives in and gets the scissors that he cuts his hand.

Blood is slowly trickling out of the slit-like wound in Harry's finger. Its right between his index and middle finger, the soft skin there ripped open by the edge of the paper bag.

Harry panics, naturally. He doesn't do well with injuries or blood despite having had his fair share of them.

His first instinct is to wake up Louis. He stops in the kitchen for a towel, wrapping it around his hand as a makeshift band aid before hurrying into his and Louis' room. He turns on the lamp on Louis' bedside table, shaking his boyfriend roughly by the shoulder, "Louis!" He hisses urgently.

"What?" Louis squints his eyes, the light too bright for someone who has just woken up. He's still slightly out of it until he sees the panicked expression on Harry's face. "What?" He asks again, sitting up and examining the curly-haired man standing at his bedside.

Harry applies pressure to the injury, "I cut myself."

All Louis sees is the white towel wrapped around Harry's hand, spots of red blood decorating it. His eyes go wide, "Do you need to go to the hospital?" He kicks his feet wildly until the he is free from the sheets, slipping on an old pair of sandals he has in the room. He doesn't give Harry time to answer. "Let's go!"

Harry nods, finding a pair of shoes for himself as well. Louis grabs the car keys hanging on the hook by the door and they're off.

The hospital is maybe 10 miles away. During the drive, Louis is bossy. "Make sure to apply pressure," and, "keep your hand above your heart." All things he's heard from his mom as a child.

Both of them enter A&E in their pajamas. Harry remembers he is wearing some sort of plaid pattern while Louis is wearing sweatpants he cut into shorts and one of Harry's t-shirts. Louis tells Harry to go sit down while he signs the paperwork.

They are seen relatively quickly due to the odd hour. Harry is sitting on the bed in the doctor's office and Louis standing beside him, hovering.

"What happened Harry?" Louis turns to him, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Harry goes to speak but the door is opened announcing the doctor's arrival.

He's an older man, in his fifties, Harry thinks. He has salt and pepper hair cut short on his head and a shadow of stubble. His eyes are tired. The name tag on his coat reads 'Dr. Smith' which Harry thinks is very generic.

"So," Doctor Smith begins, looking down at his clipboard and flipping through the papers, "Harry. Let's take a look at that, shall we?"

Harry extends the injured hand and the doctor gently unravels the towel to reveal the cut. It has stopped bleeding now, but it's still an angry red.

Louis' eyes go wide and he looks from Harry to the cut, the cut to Harry, "You mean to tell me that you woke me up at four in the morning to drag you to A&E for a paper cut?!" His voice gets higher and louder toward the end of the sentence and he's staring Harry down.

"You never gave me a chance to explain." Harry says slowly, calmly. He turns back to the doctor, ears open. He can feel Louis' angry stare and he feels kind of bad inside.

Doctor Smith is indifferent. "It's in a tricky spot that cut." He disinfects the cut with a spray that stings. Louis has no sympathy. Harry is given a butterfly band aid and sent on his way

"Damn near gave me a heart attack." Louis mutters as he rounds the car, opening the door for Harry who climbs in without a word.

The drive home is silent. The house is as they left it, lights on and blood covered chip bag on the living room floor.

It's not until they're back in bed and Louis had almost drifted into the salvation of sleep that Harry apologies. It's muttered into his pillow as he turns onto his side to face Louis.

Louis rolls his eyes, "Don't need to be sorry, babe." He reassures, kissing Harry's nose, "Next time just use scissors, yeah?"

Harry nods and presses a kiss to Louis' faint smile, "Love you." He whispers, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

"You too," Louis says, curling into Harry's chest and letting sleep take him.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading - kudos and comments are appreciated! 
> 
> p.s. harry's struggle with the chip bag was inspired by yours truly.


End file.
